Serpentine Desires

The prey

I should've known better.

I should've seen it coming, the storm behind his eyes. The violent tempest that lurked behind the soft-spoken threats, the poisonous words that slipped from his mouth like honey laced with venom. But I didn't. I was too blinded by the fleeting hope that, maybe, just maybe, there was a shred of humanity left in him.

Now I was trapped in his suffocating grip and the brutal reality was sinking in. There was no humanity. Not in him. Not in the man who stood before me now, he was a monster dressed in the skin of someone I once thought I could understand.

Hell.

Yes. He was hell.

th his touch. He wasn't holding me anymore—he was claiming me as if every bruise and mark was a reminder of his twisted ownership.

I wanted to scream, to lash out, but I couldn't. The force of his hand on my throat was too much, the pressure unbearable. My vision was going dark around the edges, and I could feel my strength slipping away.

Just as I thought I might pass out, he released me, letting me crumple to the floor in a gasping, trembling heap. I coughed, clutching at my throat, my chest heaving as I fought to suck in the air.

But he wasn't done. Not by a long shot.

He crouched down in front of me, tilting his head as he watched me struggle. "You hate me, don't you?" he asked, his voice soft, almost gentle. "You hate every inch of me. Every word. Every touch."

I couldn't answer. I didn't have the courage or strength.

"But you know what?" His fingers brushed a strand of hair from my face, his touch deceptively tender. "That's okay. Because the more you hate me, the more you'll need me." He leaned in, his lips ghosting over mine, his breath hot against my skin. "The more you'll crave me."

I whimpered, trying to push him away, but he grabbed my wrists, pinning them to the floor with ease. "Shh," he whispered, pressing a kiss to the corner of my mouth. "Don't fight it. Don't fight me."

Tears slipped down my cheeks, and I squeezed my eyes shut, praying for this to end. But deep down, I knew it wouldn't. Not as long as he had me.

Not as long as he owned me.

"The more you fight, the more badly I want to clip your little wings." 

"You think you're some kind of god, don't you?" I spat, the words slipping out with venom, despite the fear that had wrapped itself around my heart. I could see the change in his eyes, that flicker of something dark and dangerous, but I didn't stop. "You're nothing but a pathetic, broken man hiding behind your cruelty."

The second the last word left my lips, his eyes narrowed to slits. Before I could blink, his hand shot out, gripping my arm like a vice. I gasped as he yanked me toward him, the force of his grip sending pain shooting through my shoulder.

"You just don't learn, do you?" he hissed, his voice low, terrifyingly controlled.

Before I knew what was happening, he hoisted me into the air as if I weighed nothing, and then I was airborne. The next moment, I slammed onto the bed with a dull thud, my breath rushing out of me. Panic seized my chest, but my instincts kicked in. I scrambled, trying to crawl away, but he was faster. Always faster.

His hands were on me in an instant, fingers wrapping tightly around my ankles and dragging me back toward the edge of the bed. A scream tore from my throat, but it only seemed to fuel him. His grip tightened, pulling me closer, and I felt his breath hot against my skin, every movement dripping with raw, unfiltered power.